For a pick-pocket's hand
by thegreekarmygoesmeow
Summary: What the fuck has Spain on edge? He keeps trying to get me to go places with him and he won't stop touching his damn pocket! Well, I guess I'd better find out, Italian style!


**Title: ****For a pick-pocket's hand**

**Rating: T (For language, obviously)**

**Pairing: SpaMano**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, it belongs to Himaruya! (If I did own it, these fuckers would be married with adopted kids by now *shot*)**

**A/N: For any readers of Partners, I'm so sorry I've been neglecting it. I have the next chapter written on paper so expect it in the next day or two! **

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Can't the fucking bastard tell I'm not in the goddamn mood? What the hell?! I can't even sit and watch my show (no, fuck you it's addicting, okay?) without him _breathing down my neck_ like a fucking creeper! A sexy, Spanish creeper, but I digress..

We'd been dating for about three years now and he's _never_ been this clingy! _Ever_! And that's really saying something! I sighed and got up to go into the kitchen to make lunch where I was stopped by the very Spaniard that I had been trying to ignore.

"Come on, Lovi~. How about we go out to eat? No need for you to cook~!" He gave me that stupid, goofy, loveab- _annoying_ grin.

"I don't want to go out, damn it." I grunted, brushing past him.

The bastard's face fell a bit and his hand twitched towards the pocket on his old jeans before sighing and nodding. I rolled my eyes, setting about the task of warming up some paella Antonio and I had made last night. Tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for the damned rice to warm up, my eyes shifted back to my boyfriend. It was plain as anything something was eating at him. He had this awkward little frown and his hand kept fumbling with something in his pocket. I narrowed my eyes, turning away. Fucking bastard was hiding something from me and damn it I was going to find out or my name isn't Lovino Romano Vargas!

"Oi, bastard! You hungry?" I called, already grabbing a pair of plates.

"¡Ay, sí!" Of course. "Hey, Lovi~?"

"Hn?"

"Maybe after we eat we could go take a walk in the park! Doesn't that sound fun?"

"I _just_ said I didn't want to go out." I grumbled, frowning as the idiot's face fell slightly.

"O-Oh… okay, Lovi…You want to stay home and maybe watch a movie?"

"…Fine." I nodded, indulging the seemingly attention-starved bastard as I set our plates on the table.

"Yay~!" He beamed, fucking _beamed_, at me while he handed me a fork.

We sat and ate in relative silence though Antonio would occasionally open his mouth and blab about something our crazy old lady next door did or his plans to go out with the guys next Tuesday. I rolled my eyes, only giving the occasional noncommittal grunt when needed. Once the food was gone, Antonio and eye had a match of rock-paper-scissors to determine who got dish duty. Shut up, it's the best fucking way to do it! N-No it's not childish, fuck you!

I won so, like the badass I am I smirked, handing him the dishes. He pouted but ran the water and plugged the sink. I made my way into the living room, but not until after a give a quick smack to his (goddamn _perfect_) backside getting an "¡Ay~!" for my trouble. I grabbed some stupid cheesy romantic comedy (Sh-shut up! It's one of Antonio's movies, I swear!) and slid the disk in, retreating to our comfy couch. I chewed the inside of my cheek, scowling at the loading screen. What was Antonio hiding from me? Was it bad? The feeling of the couch dipping next to me yanked my from my musings.

"Lovi, are you okay?" He gave me a worried look, hitting play on the movie. "You look worried."

"O-Of course I'm okay, damn it!" I huffed, settling back against the couch, trying to focus on the film.

Needless to say, in about twenty minutes I was bored stiff. I looked over at Antonio to see he's completely _absorbed_ in the shitty acting and repetitive jokes. What the fuck else is new? I shook my head, eyeing the tiny bulge (NOT THAT BULGE YOU PERVERTS…that one's much bigger. Oh god, Lovino shut up. Shut up now.) in his pocket. So what did I do? Well, I'm known for my pick-pocketing skills.

With a sly grin, I easily slipped my hand into his pocket, not that the ever-oblivious Spaniard noticed. My hand brushed a small, soft cube. Gently, I freed it from his pocket and scooted away slightly to examine my prize. It wasn't much to look at, just a plain black velvet box. I felt around the sides, my thumb until I finally managed to start pushing the thing open. I swallowed thickly as my eyes caught a glimpse of silky white lining before the box was snatched out of my hands.

"L-Lovino!" His voice seemed shaken. "W-What are you doing with that?!"

"Bastard you've been all fidgety and nervous all day and you kept touching your damn pocket!" I tried to defend myself, face red from being caught.

"W-Well still…!"

"What is it anyways?" I questioned, though I had my hope- suspicions.

"N-Nothing!" He was obviously lying, my eyes narrowed and he swallowed. "I-I mean.."

"Tell me right now, bastard."

I was expecting him to keep fighting. Instead, he sighed, turning on the lamp on the table to his left and turning the movie off (thank _god_). He got up, kneeling in front of me with the box in one hand and the other on my knee.

"Lovino," oh god, he hardly ever used my full name, this isn't happening. "we've been together for a while now. I know that I'm not rich. I can't give you half the life you deserve. I know that we'll never have kids of our own. But I can give you…well, _me_. I love you more than anything, even tomatoes! S-So.." He took a deep breath, squeezing my hand gently before flipping the box open with his thumb. "Lovino, mi vuoi sposare?"

"…"

I fucking tackled him to the ground, kissing him full-on the lips. With a soft chuckle between kisses, he somehow managed to slip the plain silver band around my ring finger before wrapping his arms around me and hugging me close.

"I'll take that as a yes." He laughed.

"Sh-Shut up, you bastard." I grumbled, looking down at him.

"I love you too."


End file.
